


How the Grinch Saved Christmas

by loonyloopyluna



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Chloe Hates Everybody, Christmas Party, Everybody Hates Chloe, Female Friendship, ML Secret Santa, She Really Does Care TM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 23:54:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9044897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonyloopyluna/pseuds/loonyloopyluna
Summary: Chloé doesn't get the hype around Christmas. When you can buy whatever you want, whenever, who needs Santa? And she doesn't have friends and family to celebrate with, besides her father. Christmas is just another day.
But not to Sabrina. And that's the important thing. Chloé doesn't quite know how to express her affection for her friend, but actions speak louder than words, and she's got plenty of money at her disposal.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was my gift as part of the of the mlsecretsanta exchange on tumblr! (my post [here](http://chatchevalier.tumblr.com/post/154939642141/happy-holidays-to-nyenuma-i-was-your))

  
Chloé didn’t need to admit it; everyone knew the only reason she was class president was for the social status. And besides, with the power it gave her, she could delegate all of her responsibilities to her classmates. After all, it was her responsibility to make sure each issue was handled by the most competent students.

And Rose absolutely loved holidays. She’d started pestering Chloé with ideas for the Halloween party on the first day of September, and started hinting about Christmas before October was even over.

“Fine, just--Do whatever! I don’t care!” Chloé exclaimed one morning. She was tired of hearing Rose go on about costume contests and haunted houses and transition straight into mistletoe and secret santas. Ms. Bustier frowned at her.

“We can set up a committee,” Sabrina said, leaning over. “You shouldn’t have to organize everything by yourself. And Chloé will need to supervise it anyway.”

“I guess,” Chloé said, pulling out a nail file. “Get some other people together and I can get Daddy to save us a room at the hotel so we can have a proper meeting.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ms. Bustier give a satisfied nod and move over to the chalkboard to begin writing notes for the day’s lesson.

Chloé rolled her eyes and muttered, “Ugh. Sabrina, remind me to do that later.”

The sharpness in her voice hit Sabrina like an icicle to her temple, and she flinched. “Sorry. I mean, you don’t have to do anything. I’ll ask my dad if we can do it at my house, or we can just let Rose do everything again…”

“No, it’s fine. It’s not like--I mean, Ms. Bustier already knows you offered, and it’s not like Daddy doesn’t have the room.” Chloé avoided Sabrina’s eyes and looked at the clock. “You know, I think that’s slow,” she said.

“What?” Sabrina looked around for a minute before her eyes, too, settled on the clock, and at that moment, the bell rang.

“Anyway,” Chloé said. “Rose can invite whoever she wants. You can invite whoever you want. I’ll be there. It’s fine.” She folded her hands and pretended to pay attention to her teacher, who was announcing upcoming events--including the party-planning committee. She heard a concerningly large number of people make various noises of interest behind her, and she groaned internally. Many hands make light work, true, but with too many people around nothing would ever get done. And she wanted to deal with as few of her classmates as possible outside of school.

* * *

After school, she and Sabrina stepped out of the limousine at the hotel. Their attention was immediately diverted by a group of their classmates, swarming around the disgruntled doorman. Chloé’s expression soured with every step as she stomped over.

“What’s going on?” she demanded.

“They claim to be here for you, miss,” the doorman said dryly.

“I didn't ‘claim’ to be here for anybody,” Alix snarled. “We are. Let us in.”

Chloé rolled her eyes, but gestured for the doorman to usher them inside. She sauntered to the front of the group when they reached the lobby. For all its open space, it was deserted, and Chloé grabbed the closest concierge.

“Marie, where's Daddy?” she hissed.

Marie shrugged. “Sorry, miss, I think he's in a meeting.”

“Whatever. Are there any conference rooms free?”

“I wouldn't know just now, miss. I'll have to check.”

A resounding crash echoed around the high ceilings of the lobby, and Chloé didn't have to look behind her to know that the vase of red poppies was now scattered on the floor.

“Never mind,” she said. “I'm going to my room, and my classmates are coming with me.” She wrinkled her nose and added, “Send someone up in an hour with waters. I'll probably be sick of them by then, so they'll need to be chased out.”

Chloé spun around and stalked toward the elevator, making no move to her classmates but expecting them to follow all the same. Sabrina trotted to catch up and Rose trailed after her; the rest of the group caught on eventually, and the last of them piled into the elevator as the doors were sliding shut again.

Chloé struggled against the back wall, swatting at whoever’s back was pinning her in place. “Will someone hit the button?” Sabrina asked. “Top floor.”

It was a short, suffocating ride to the penthouse, and Chloé shoved her way out of the elevator to grasp for a breath of fresh air before the unwashed masses swarmed around again. Ridiculous, really, since she was the only one with the key, and judging by the direction Ivan and Alix were wandering, one of the only ones who actually knew where she was going.

She dug in her purse for her key and inserted it into the lock. It clicked neatly and Chloé swung the door open, gesturing wordlessly for her classmates to enter. They filed through like lemmings, some awkwardly, some in bare-faced awe. She barely waited until the last of them had crossed the threshold before stepping inside and letting the door pull itself shut with an angry bang that would have rattled flimsier walls. She let out an irritated huff; her father would tell her to conceal her impatience, remain unflappable, affable, amiable. Conceal, don’t feel, like the kids sang at the mall. But honestly, the door’s slam, coupled with the fact that it was _Chloé_ , was enough to signal to her classmates that she didn’t want them there. And honestly, many of them didn’t want to be there, anyway. Not with her. But they satisfied themselves with the sadistic pleasure of kicking their shoes up onto her coffee table, sprawling out on her plush couches, and generally causing chaos in her previously pristine room.

Chloé flounced over to her chair by the window and pulled a magazine from her stack. Sabrina looked at her curiously and she rolled her eyes. “Do...whatever. I don’t know. I’m just supposed to be here, aren’t I?”

“Right. Of course,” Sabrina said, bobbing her head hastily. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to say anything first.”

Chloé returned her attention to her magazine. “It’s not like this is official or anything. Don’t touch anything. Don’t get on my nerves. Don’t be too loud or someone will remove you. I didn’t think I had to say any of that, but, well...” Her eyes flickered up derisively for a second, settling on no one in particular. “Just in case.”

Kim opened his mouth to retort, but Sabrina rushed in to fill the space before he could get himself in trouble. “Well, anyway, this whole thing was Rose’s idea, so why don’t you take care of things?”

Chloé tried her best to tune out the conversation, but the bubbly little blonde’s voice took up too much space in her head. She pulled her phone out and stuck in her earbuds, drowning out everything with the sounds of XY. It was much bubblier than her current mood, but maybe it would lift her spirits. Chloé didn’t consider herself a Grinch, but she certainly didn’t get worked up over Christmas, especially when it was still two months away. Christmas was a time for snow and cold and standing for hours and endless holiday parties and shaking strangers’ hands until her own fell off. Sure there were presents and the all-important Christmas dinner, but there were really only two things she enjoyed about the holiday.

It gave her a chance to give Sabrina something, out of gratitude and maybe a selfish desire to show off her means, without feeling like she was giving a bribe in exchange for friendship. Sabrina’s reaction often left Chloé feeling like she was overreacting for her sake, that they were each playing out a farce for the rest of the world, two friendless girls in solidarity and merely tolerating each other out of appearance’s sake. Chloé liked being the center of attention, but sometimes hated how over-the-top it all was, like there was an ulterior motive behind every action, as if she was incapable of being kind for kindness’ sake and friendly for friendship’s sake. Even if it was expected, Christmas was a time to forget all of that for a moment.

In addition, Christmas parties were, in recent years, one of the only times she saw Adrien. They’d exchanged phone numbers as soon as they were old enough to have cell phones, but texting paled in comparison to a shoulder to lean on, a hand to squeeze, a body for comfort when things got lonely and the only ones around were thirty years your senior. But, looking up for a second, Chloé noticed that Adrien wasn’t even included in the assembled crowd. It made sense, if she thought about it; she remembered how his mother adored Christmas, and he would always follow her lead. Now that she wasn’t around, Chloé wondered if he felt the same way she did; that the holiday, like many other things, was overhyped.

Halloween was barely over anyway. Chloé had plenty of time before she had to start thinking about that, and her classmates had plenty of time to plan their ridiculous party.

* * *

Chloé somehow found herself hosting weekly party-planning meetings in her room. She tried her best to ignore their chatter, busying herself by scrolling through Instagram or reading magazines or even doing her homework; anything rather than listening to her classmates discuss the finer points of paper snowflakes while there were still leaves on the trees.

There were times, though, that she wanted to snap at them to get back to work, as much as she hated the work they were doing. They were there for a purpose, not just to hang out, especially without her, and that was something they seemed to forget. Chloé didn’t know whether to feel flattered or annoyed that they felt comfortable enough in her house to mess around, but after the third time she had to stop a pillow fight from encompassing the entire hotel, she settled on annoyed.

“I’m not even allowed to run around the hotel like a maniac,” she sniffed. “Then again, I know better. Daddy’s not going to let you come over anymore if you keep disrupting the guests.”

“Fine with me,” Alix retorted. She threw a pillow towards Chloé, who just barely managed to bat it away from her face. “We’re only here so you don’t get in trouble for--”

Rose interjected quickly. “I mean, but Chloé’s being nice enough to let us work here, where it’s so big,” she said, chuckling nervously. “A-and it’s not like she couldn’t help, if she wanted to…?” She glanced nervously over at Chloé, who continued to stare Alix down. Breaking eye contact would be a death sentence.

“I mean… she’s not wrong,” Juleka muttered.

“Of course,” Chloé said coolly. She stretched her hand out to Sabrina, who gave her a small notebook. In one clean movement, Chloé snapped it open to the first page and spun decisively away from Alix. On the page was written a list of names; some were crossed out:

~~_Myl_ _è_ _ne_ ~~

~~_Ivan_ ~~

_Kim_

~~_Max_ ~~

_Alix_

_Sabrina_

~~_Alya_ ~~

_Nino_

_Rose_

_Juleka_

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Your hit list,” Alix muttered.

“It’s just a list of who’s been showing up,” Rose said.

Chloé turned to the next page, where a short list was scribbled out:

_dinner--potluck?? Catering?_

_Cookies_

_DIY decorations?_

_Secret santa_

The rest of notebook pages were blank.

“That’s it?” Chloé asked. “December is next week. What have you all been doing?”

“More than you,” Kim objected. “At least we’ve been, like, making garlands and stuff.”

“Yeah, okay,” she snapped. “Get pissed at me for letting you into my house and letting you do whatever you want. How dare I ask that you don’t tick off my dad, though. Or actually, you know, do what you’re here to do. But _I’m_ the bitch because I’d rather spend my time doing anything other than plan this stupid party, because apparently we’re all five years old and actually still care about Christmas!”

“Well, at least you acknowledge you’re being a bitch,” someone muttered. Chloé didn’t know who it was, and didn’t stick around to see. She turned on her heel and stomped into her bedroom. She left the door open and through it, she could hear various sounds of squabbling. Her classmates left quickly, and as the front door shut she went out onto her balcony, leaning against the rail and pulling her jacket tighter.

Sabrina came up behind her. “I’m sorry,” she began quietly. “I didn’t think--”

“Actually, Sabrina, I’d prefer to be alone right now,” Chloé interrupted.

“Right. Sorry.” She smiled faintly and retreated.

Chloé directed her gaze back to the streets. The days were getting shorter, and it was already dark out. She hoped Sabrina would get home okay, and briefly considered calling her chauffeur, but that would involve moving and talking to people, and Chloé needed space. She knew if she had to talk to anyone she would just take out all her anger on them, and as satisfying as that sounded, she knew her father would be angry about it later.

She stared at Adrien’s house, across the street. She knew they were drifting apart, had been ever since he started school, ever since she stopped being his only friend, since he saw how she acted around other people. Well, he had before, but until recently her ire had seemed justifiable. Now he seemed to like the people she hated, which made her come out looking horrible. They were drifting apart, all right, and as much as Chloé tried to stop it, she couldn’t help but realize that anything she did seemed to push him farther away.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and turned it over in her hands. She could always call him, complain like they used to. But it had been forever since they’d really talked; the last time Chloé could remember, he’d complained about how his father kept him hidden away in the house, and she’d suggested coming to school with her. A great idea at the time, but now she regretted ever bringing it up. And anyway, if she called now, Adrien would probably just take her classmates’ side.

She fumbled with her phone and felt it slip through her fingers. She watched silently, distantly, as it landed on its edge, fell flat, teetered on the balcony’s edge, and fell to the sidewalk below. Chloé leaned her elbows on the rail and closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation. She’d better go and get it, if only for the card inside.

Later. She’d get it later. Or, more than likely, the doorman had seen it land and would take care of it, she reasoned.

What she was not expecting, however, was to hear, “Drop something?” in a familiar voice to her left. Chloé cracked an eyelid and snuck a look at the corner of her vision. Chat Noir’s luminescent green eyes glowed bright in the gloom.

“What are you doing here?” she sighed.

“I was, uh…” he said, waving a hand vaguely towards the street. “It doesn’t matter. Anyway, I think this is yours.” He held out her cell phone, and she took it. Maybe her mascara was smudged, or maybe her voice trembled when she thanked him, or maybe Chat just had really good intuition, but he paused a moment. “Is everything okay?” he asked softly.

Chloé laughed bitterly, and to her horror, felt tears gathering. She blinked hard and looked away, twisting her mouth in disgust. “No.”

“Oh.”

Chloé tried to discreetly wipe at her eyes, silently willing her company to leave.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” he asked, clearly not getting any hint she was trying to give.

“Yeah,” she responded shortly. “But not with you. And I don’t really have anyone I would want to talk to about it anymore so… you can go. I’d like to be alone.”

He stepped forward and tried to place a hand on her shoulder, but she backed away. “What do you mean, you don’t have anyone to talk to? Chloé, you have so many friends. If you’re hurting, I’m sure they’d want you to tell them.”

She shook her head and bit out, “I have, like, one friend. I appreciate the sentiment, Chat Noir, but you don’t really know me, so your ‘someone out there really _does_ care’ speech doesn’t really work on me.”

She turned her back on him, but he still didn’t leave. He came up and stood beside her, looking out at the night. “Well, I care,” he said. “If you want to, you can talk to me.”

She heaved a sigh. “You know, I really don’t.” She glared at him for a moment. “I’d really just like to be alone right now,” she repeated.

“Of course,” Chat said, doing a ridiculous little bow. “Good night.” He hopped up on the railing and dropped nimbly down, vaulting away into the night. Chloé watched him for a minute until he was out of sight, fiddling with her ponytail and trying to grab onto a train of thought that didn’t seem to be there.

Later that night, her brain was still full of static, and after a quick dinner with her father, Chloé went to bed early. She was curled up under her covers, playing a game on her phone, when she got a text from Adrien.

_Hey, Chloé!_

She texted back immediately.

_Adrikins! <3 what do you need? _

The reply bubble popped up, disappeared, and then reappeared. The three dots winked at her, one-by-one, for a long time.

_Nothing. Just wanted to see what’s up._

_So much._ She shook her head and erased it.

_What do you care? Is something wrong?_ Still not right.

She finally settled on, _I’m okay. What’s up with you?_

She hit send and switched her phone onto silent, then rolled over and closed her eyes.

* * *

The next week came and went without any noticeable change. Chloé talked to Sabrina, hung around Adrien, fawned over Ladybug when she came around. At school she gave the others the cold shoulder as usual, and none of them made any attempt to apologize.

After a few days, her anger cooled; she regarded her classmates with the same mild irritation as ever. So maybe she wasn’t expecting it, but it was certainly a shock when Friday evening came and no one knocked on her door, save for her father and a maid with some hot chocolate.

Curiosity, more than anything, drove her to dial Sabrina. Her face swam into view on the phone screen, but anything she might have been saying was drowned out by someone yelling in the background.

Sabrina scowled. Chloé had a few moments of vertigo as she watched the background behind her friend’s head shift rapidly, until it stabilized, showing a familiar wallpaper pattern. Sabrina shut her bedroom door, and the background noise cut out abruptly.

“Sorry about that,” Sabrina said. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” Chloé whined. “I mean, obviously you’re at home,” she continued, before Sabrina could answer, “but why aren’t you here? Where is everyone?”

“Oh.” Sabrina fiddled with a strand of hair that had fallen past her headband. “I invited them over to my place. Thought it might be better than the hotel.”

“Why?” Chloé asked. “It’s closer to school. You wouldn’t have had to take the metro.” She shuddered.

“Well, yeah,” Sabrina replied hesitantly, “but no one really… wanted to.”

“What? Who said that?”

“Well, no one, but--”

“Sabrina, you’re just being paranoid. Nobody’s brought anything up all week. They’re not still hung up on--”

“I mean, you’re right, Chloé. They’ve been waiting for you to apologize. That’s why no one’s said… well, anything recently.”

Chloé felt a twinge in her stomach, but she covered it up with a scoff. “Me? Apologize? For what?”

Sabrina mumbled something; all Chloé caught was “flake.”

“What was that?” she asked sharply.

“You don’t even help with the snowflakes,” Sabrina said. “You didn’t do anything, and then you were yelling at them for not getting anything done. It seemed a little… hypocritical.”

“They called me a bitch!” Chloé screeched.

Sabrina frowned uncomfortably. “I mean… technically you said it, not them.”

“Whatever. I can come over and help make the stupid snowflakes.”

Sabrina’s face lit up. “Really? I mean, you don’t have to--”

“No, shut up. I’ll come,” Chloé interrupted.

Then a terrible thought flashed into her mind. She and Sabrina had been friends for years, but they’d only ever hung out at Chloé’s. She didn’t even know her best friend’s address, and what’s more, Sabrina didn’t even realize this. And they had known each other for long enough that it would just be embarrassing and uncomfortable on both sides if Chloé asked.

“But, I mean,” Chloé continued, “is it really so hard to make a couple of stupid decorations?”

Sabrina’s face began to fall. “Chloé, it--”

“No, really! And they expect me to apologize? They weren’t getting anything done, and they were the ones that wanted to do everything!” Chloé took a deep breath before she got too carried away. “On second thought, Sabrina, I don’t think I’ll be coming over.”

Sabrina started to say something more, but Chloé couldn’t take her puppy-dog eyes, so she hung up.

Her room was quiet. She was used to quiet, but after the past month, it felt… unsettling. Uncomfortable. Almost lonely. She put some music on, turned the volume all the way up, and opened her laptop to do some therapeutic online shopping.

* * *

At school, Sabrina tried to bridge the gap between the two parties, but since neither was willing to relent in their frosty silence, she often found herself taking one side over the other. It didn’t escape Chloé’s notice that as the end of the week approached, Sabrina sided with everyone else, flashing Chloé an apologetic glance and a shrug that tried to indicate her ambivalence. But Chloé knew--Sabrina didn’t want to get kicked out, too. It was a smart, political move, and she would have been proud of her friend, if Chloé hadn’t been the one to come out completely alone. She might’ve called Adrien over for moral support, but he was one of the few that was clueless to the new Cold War sweeping the homeroom, and probably thought it was just “Chloé being Chloé.”

Which it was, to a point. Chloé was stubborn. Chloé didn’t apologize.

Chloé also rarely encountered organized resistance like this. If it was a few people, she could break them down one by one, but not this time.

December 15th came. The next day, the last day of school before Christmas break, was to be the party. Sabrina’s leg was bouncing underneath the desk all day, and the party-planning committee, which had thinned to three people, spent the lunch period in the courtyard, pulling things together. Chloé went home alone to eat.. When she came back, Sabrina was hyperventilating in the corner; since Rose was there to comfort her, Chloé pretended not to notice.

As the final bell rang, Chloé turned to Sabrina and asked, “What are you doing after school?”

“Rose and Juleka were going to come over,” she began. “We’ve still got… a lot to do before tomorrow.

Chloé hummed, leaning over Sabrina to dig through her book bag. She felt her friend’s arms wrap around her. “That wasn’t--I’m just getting--this!” she said, holding up the infamous Christmas notebook. She extricated herself from the hug and grabbed Sabrina’s hand, tugging her out to her waiting car. “Come on.”

In the back of the limo, Chloé opened the notebook. The first page had been ripped out.

~~_dinner--potluck?? Catering?_ ~~

_Cookies_

_DIY decorations?_

_Secret santa_

“We still need to make cookies and figure out secret santa gifts,” Sabrina said. “Or, I guess it would be less of an actual secret santa now, and more of just buying presents for everyone in the class, since we should have done assignments weeks ago, but--” Sabrina’s voice was approaching hysteria, and she took a deep, shaky breath.

“Well, at least you have your snowflakes,” Chloé said, a little sardonically. She was just trying to lighten the mood, but Sabrina flinched.

“They’re not up yet, though,” Sabrina replied. “All the decorations are at my house, and we’re supposed to go in early tomorrow and set everything up still. and--.”

“Hey. Sabrina.” Chloé interrupted, sliding over and putting her arm around her friend’s shoulders. “Let’s go shopping.”

“No, Chloé, I can’t. I still have a lot--”

“Trust me.”

Before Sabrina could disagree again, Chloé directed the driver to take them to the mall. As they pushed through the glass doors, Chloé dug in her purse for a pen and turned to a fresh page. She scribbled out a quick list.

“How many people are in our class?” she asked. They entered the atrium and sat down. The driver followed silently and stood sentry at the end of the bench.

Sabrina squinted. “Twelve. Well, fourteen, including us.”

Chloé counted down the items on her list and nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“Wait!” Sabrina jogged after her. “What are we doing?”

“Being Santa.”

“What?”

Chloé ignored her. “After me is Ivan, so…” She spun around a few times, before her gaze landed on a video game store. “He likes music, right?”

“Uh, I guess…?” Sabrina trotted along.

“Good.” Chloé entered the store and waved down an employee. “I’d like to buy one of those,” she said, pointing at the Rock Band display.

“It needs an Xbox to play,” the employee said.

“Oh. Does he have one?” Chloé asked. Sabrina shrugged helplessly. “Never mind. I’ll buy one anyway.”

The employee stared. “Um, will that be all?”

“Ye--Wait. Max likes video games, too, doesn’t he? He did some”--Chloé waved her hands inarticulately--”thing.”

“He mentioned something about getting the new PlayStation soon but…” Sabrina offered tentatively.

Chloé smirked. “Fine. And we’ll buy one of those. That will be all here, I think,” she said. She approached the register and tapped her credit card on the counter. “Do you do gift wrapping?” she asked. “Never mind. It probably looks tacky.”

“I-it has our logo on it,” the employee agreed, ringing her up. She swiped Chloé’s card and hesitated. “Would you like a bag, or--?”

Chloé waved her off, and her chauffeur stepped in and scooped up the boxes. “I’ll take the receipt, though,” she said, and tucked it away neatly in her purse. She pulled out Sabrina’s notebook and crossed off Ivan’s name.

“We got him two things, so we should probably stick to that for everyone else…” she muttered. She headed back out to their bench in the atrium to recoup, while the chauffeur returned to the car to stow the boxes away.

“Happy holidays!” the video game store employee called after her. Chloé rolled her eyes.

“You too,” Sabrina said quickly. She dashed after Chloé. “Will you wait, Chloé? Please?”

Chloé sat down and faced her, raising one cold eyebrow. “What?”

“What are you doing?”

“I told you, we’re--”

“No, I mean… why?”

“Why not? It’s not like anyone else is going to do it. Or do it as well.”

“Yeah, but they kind of… hate you.” Sabrina winced. “I didn’t mean--”

Chloé took a deep breath. “I know. But that’s not going to change. And everyone’s going to be miserable if this thing doesn’t turn out like you wanted.”

“But--”

“Besides, you don’t hate me. And you’re freaking out over this. So let’s get it done.” Chloé stood up again. “Now, come on. Let’s walk around for a little bit. We’ll need to get presents for us, too. It’s Christmas. Treat yourself.” She smiled.

* * *

It was nearly four hours later when they finally left the mall. “I’m getting tired,” Chloé said, “and I have a bunch of unopened stuff at my house I can give people, too. Ready to go?”

Sabrina cradled a hot chocolate in her hands and buried her face in the steam. She nodded. “How are we going to get everything to school tomorrow, though?”

“I’ll have someone bring it in early,” Chloé replied. “I’ll get them to put up the decorations, too, if you want.”

“Really?” Sabrina asked. “I can bring them out when you drop me off.”

Chloé pouted. “Or… we could stop by your house on the way back to mine,” she countered. She linked an arm through Sabrina’s as they waited inside the doors for the driver to come back with the car. “You’re sleeping over tonight. There’s no way I’m wrapping all these presents by myself.”

Sabrina smiled. “Deal.”

The limo pulled up and the two of them scrambled inside. “Go to Sabrina’s house first,” Chloé ordered, settling herself into the seat. “We need to pick up a few more things.”

“Yes, Miss,” the chauffeur said. He smiled at the pair of them in the rearview mirror. “Anything else?”

“No, thank you,” Sabrina interjected. “And can you take the shortcut? My parents are probably wondering where I’ve been.”

“Of course, Miss.”

Chloé looked out the window in disguised curiosity as they drove, trying to keep track of the winding path they took to Sabrina’s house. After a few minutes, they pulled up in front of a building strung with lights, and Sabrina skipped up the stairs. Chloé followed, feeling oddly out of place.

Sabrina opened her front door and Chloé followed. “I’m home!” Sabrina called, and a yappy dog answered. What looked like a volleyball rolled around the corner towards them, but when Sabrina scooped it up, Chloé realized it was a little dog.

“Oh! You haven’t met the puppy yet,” Sabrina said. She placed a kiss on top of the dog’s head. “This is China. She’s three months old.”

“She’s so… round,” Chloé said nervously. The dog’s black eyes glittered out at her through a mass of white curls, and despite its small size, Chloé was unnerved.

“Most of this is fur," Sabrina explained. "You can pet her, you know. She’s really soft.”

“Uh, no, thanks. We should get--I mean, where’s the stuff?” Chloé asked.

Sabrina set the dog down. “In my room,” she answered. “We should be able to get it all in one trip, so give me a second.” She slipped her shoes off and followed in the direction the dog had trotted off to. Chloé stood uncertainly for a minute, then followed, her boot heels clicking loudly on the hardwood floor.

Sabrina was standing in the doorway, talking to Roger. “Sorry, I was out with Chloé,” she was saying. “But, um, I was wondering if I could sleep over tonight?”

“It’s all right with me,” Roger replied. “But you’ll have to check with your father.”

Chris walked in from a door in the back that Chloé hadn’t noticed before. “Check with me about what?”

“Can I stay at Chloé’s tonight?” Sabrina repeated.

Chris folded his arms. “Some of your friends came over while you were out. You told them to meet you here, but no one knew where you were.”

Sabrina deflated. “Oh. Yeah. I forgot.”

“Be more careful next time, Sabrina,” he reprimanded.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!”

Chloé spoke up, and everyone seemed to just notice her presence. “That was me. They were being annoying, so I didn’t invite them. Sabrina just forgot to text them.”

“What were you doing out so late, anyway?” Chris asked.

“Christmas shopping,” Roger replied. “Listen, I say it’s fine if she goes. It’s for a good cause.”

“Is this that thing you’ve been working on?” Chris asked. Sabrina nodded, and he sighed. “Fine. But _only_ because it's Christmas.”

“Thank you,” Sabrina sighed in relief. She blew a kiss at her parents before spinning around heading towards her bedroom. Chloé suppressed a grin as she bent down to scratch China, who skittered away. Ears burning, she followed after Sabrina.

Sabrina was rooting through her dresser and, when she heard Chloé come in, tilted her head to one of the boxes on her bed. “If you can carry that down,” she said, “I’ll get the other one. I just need to grab my toothbrush, and then we can go.”

She darted out of the room, and Chloé sat down on her friend’s bed. She’d only ever seen a limited view of her friend’s bedroom from their video calls, and it was a lot more purple than she’d expected. Before she had time to contemplate any more, Sabrina was back. She dumped a change of clothes and her toothbrush in one of the boxes, then folded the flaps shut and lifted it up. “Okay. Ready!”

Chloé lifted the other box, which was unusually light for its size. It was still very uncomfortable, though, when they got into the car and sat down, because it took up the entirety of her lap and pressed against her nose. Thankfully, traffic was light and the drive to the hotel wasn’t too long.

Chloé climbed out as soon as the car was stopped and slid the box back onto her seat. “Have someone bring these up, would you?” she asked the chauffeur.

“Of course,” he replied.

“Thank you!” Sabrina added before Chloé shut the door.

When they got up to Chloé’s room, the first thing she did was change into her warmest pajamas and order up some more hot chocolate. She lent Sabrina something to change into, and while she was in the bathroom, a concierge came up with their purchases. She sent him away again with a short list and began rooting through her closet.

When Sabrina came back out, Chloé was surrounded by a mountain of boxes, certainly more than they’d collected at the mall. “I bought a bunch of stuff online that didn’t end up fitting,” she explained. “They’d fit someone else, though.” She held up a shoebox. “Do you know what size Juleka is?” There was a knock at the door. “That was fast. Can you get that, Sabrina?”

She did, and returned a minute later pulling a cart laden with the motherlode of gift-wrapping supplies: rolls of paper, spools of ribbons, bins of bows, tissue paper, glitter, and tags. There were a pair of scissors hanging securely from the rack, and three different colors of tape.

Chloé took one look at the cart and burst out laughing. “I just realized,” she stammered in between breaths, “I have no idea how to do this.”

Sabrina giggled. “It’s easy, I promise. Here,” she said, picking up the shoe box that Chloé had set aside. “These are perfect for Juleka. I’ll show you how to wrap it.”

Chloé tried to pay attention as Sabrina cut the paper and taped and folded and folded and taped. It seemed simple enough, and when she was done, the box was wrapped smoothly in white paper dusted with gold snowflakes. She scribbled out a tag and placed it on top, securing it with another piece of tape.

“Now you try,” she offered.

Chloé picked a box from the mall pile and tried her best. When she was done, it was decent; she’d only ripped the paper twice, and they were hidden anyway. But when she compared it to Sabrina’s, it looked terrible. The plaid paper camouflaged the wrinkles, but next to Sabrina’s, every imperfection was glaring.

“It’s hideous,” Chloé whined. “I’ll just have someone wrap everything before they go over to school in the morning.”

“Oh, come on, Chloé,” Sabrina said. “It’s not that bad. And it’s the first one! You just need practice. Besides, it looks more…” She struggled to find the word. “Authentic?”

“That doesn’t mean it’s good,” Chloé replied. She reached over and plucked the tag off of Juleka’s gift. “Besides, we’ll have to have someone else do all the writing. Our handwriting is too recognizable, and typed would be too ugly.” The tape was still tacky, and Chloé reached over and stuck the tag to the end of Sabrina’s nose.

“Well, I think wrapping presents is fun,” Sabrina said, pretending to ignore it. “You can hand me stuff.”

Chloé frowned. “Fine. But first,” she said, pulling out her phone, “we should have some music.” And like that, Christmas music began playing out of hidden speakers around her room. While Chloé was occupied, Sabrina grabbed a stick-on bow and stuck it on Chloé’s forehead.

“Okay, really, though,” Sabrina said, giggling. “Let’s wrap some presents.”

* * *

The girls rose lazily the next morning and found the mess they’d left behind the night before mostly cleaned up. Chloé still found herself brushing glitter out of her hair, but by the time they left for school, there was no trace of their actions.

When they walked into homeroom, Chloé held back a gasp. The ceiling was strung with strings of glittering paper snowflakes and tinsel that caught the early morning sun at every angle. The tree that Ms. Bustier had set up earlier in the week was decorated with a rainbow of delicate glass ornaments, and the presents had been carefully arranged around and underneath it.

“Whoa,” Sabrina breathed, looking all around even as they sat down.

Across the aisle, Alya nodded in agreement. “It looks amazing, Rose,” she said.

“Oh, this wasn’t me!” Rose said. “It was like this when I got here this morning. Juleka and I made cookies last night, and we were here extra early to decorate, but we didn’t have to. And we didn’t see who it was.”

“That’s what we forgot,” Sabrina whispered. “We never got cookies.”

Chloé shrugged. “I guess it’s a good thing they took care of it.”

“Who was it, then?” Mylène wondered loudly.

Sabrina grinned. “It was--”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sabrina,” Chloé interrupted loudly. “Santa Claus isn’t real.” She flashed her friend a warning glare and held it until the bell rang a few seconds later.

“Why didn’t you want me to tell them it was you?” Sabrina asked.

“Because they’d think I did it for attention,” Chloé replied tartly. “Or they’d do something noble and stupid, like refuse the expensive things. And then what would be the point?”

Around them, people started moving around as Ms. Bustier officially started the party. Static crackled in the speakers for a moment as Nino hooked up his computer. Kim and Alix were already rooting around at the base of the tree for packages with their names.

Sabrina hugged her tightly. “You’re the best, Chloé!”

Chloé squirmed uncomfortably and settled back against her seat. “I know,” she sniffed. “Now, get down there and see if there’s a present for me, before those idiots squash it.

Sabrina nodded and scampered down towards the tree, and Chloé allowed herself a small smile. “Merry Christmas, Sabrina,” she whispered.


End file.
